The Magician's Prison
by Mistress Infy
Summary: What if... Things are never what they seem? Leroux-based, ALW friendly--NO GERIKS, ever. Abust, angst, other adult themes--no fluff.
1. Dying

Ch.1 Dying

I know it is happening. Death has been standing over my left shoulder for days, weeks now, and he's at last put his bony fingers on my bony shoulder. _It's not really so terrible,_ I think. It's rather like sinking backward into a dark pool of water, deep and endless. Something tries to fight deep inside myself, my body giving one last instinctual heave at living, but that too quiets.

Sudden, jarring light fills my vision, and my skin feels like it's been doused in lightening. I wonder why it is that the Afterlife has such a strange entry. I wonder where it is that I'm going, what judgement shall pass on my soul...or if I have one still.

Will I beg for mercy? Will I expect leniency in the face of my...face? No. I shall not. I do not regret, terrible as it is, but it is the truth. I have done my deeds, and I shall face whatever it is that awaits me.

Again, my skin tingles and burns, and this time my whole body feels like it's leaping up, twisting. My eyes snap open. My vision is blurred, and I can't quit the twitching of my fingers, my legs. There are voices speaking around me, but I can't understand what it is they're saying.

"He's alive," one of them announces, sounding vaguely triumphant, as if they had _personally_ gone to the other side and yanked me back.

"I know," a quieter voice says. My line of sight is darkened as someone leans over me. I blink furiously, trying to understand. She, and yes, I can see it is indeed female now, lifts her eye coverings, bizarre things of black glass that dominate her face. "Erik," she murmurs, "I've been looking for you."

"I'm...quite accomplished...at..._hiding_," I wheeze. She smiles.

Then she touches my hand and everything breaks apart and vanishes.

*********************

The bright white of everything is making my skin crawl today. I'm pensive and irritable, so they've let me be to pace about my small room. Seven steps from the bed to the wall. Five steps to the door. Back again. Again. There's a knock at my door.

The Commandent enters. He throws my goggles at me, and I don't reach out to catch them. He huffs, then bends to fetch them for me. He roughly yanks the strap over my head, catching it on my hair. I'm too distracted to care, or to care that he's muttering at me the whole time. My voice feels like it's gone.

I'm vaguely aware that he's leaving, but the edges bleed into everything. I grasp for him, catching his sleeve. My vision is spotty and painful. "Wait."

He stops, eyeing me curiously. "What do--"

"_I've found him._"

Everytime it feels like dying, and this time is no different. The abrupt plunge into darkness is welcome, but something is wrong... The pull is too much for me this time, and I stumble so hard and frequently that one of the others has taken hold of the back of my vest and is all but dragging me along.

We're close... I can feel him. Now I can _see_ him.

He sees me.


	2. Lithium

Ch.2 Lithium

I can hear things before my eyes open. I'm being poked and prodded, and I appreciate none of it. My fingers twitch once.

"Body temperature is steady at 95.2."

"Hmmm... A bit cool, isn't he? Of course, a lowered body temperature could account for his slower metabolism and lack of interest in food. Are you ready yet?"

"Yes."

The very familiar feeling of a tourniquet being tied about my arm rouses me further, and then the strange pricking of a needle sliding into a vein in my wrist. My heart responds nearly immediately, thumping and leaping about. My eyes fly open as my entire body tenses and spasms. I'm held in place by simple restraints, else I would have come flying from the table.

"Good morning." I whip my head to try and locate who had spoken. A man with a gentle face and wisps of white hair was looking at me, carefully appraising me. I'm panting like a horse, and beginning to sweat. I exhale harshly through my nose, which catches his attention. "Terribly sorry about the rude awakening, but time is of the essence," he says sympathetically, an ironic smile pulling at one side of his mouth.

I narrow my eyes and quickly survey my surroundings. Various implements are sitting about in storage containers, all shining and silver. I glance down again at my restraints. Very simple. I nearly smile.

"I'm quite sure that you're wondering where you are, and why you've been brought here," he continued. He began to pace about. "Things have changed, my dear boy... Changed indeed. You've been selected because...well, you're rather special aren't you? The world needs you."

I snort once, an ugly sound coming from a man with no nose. He turns away, hands clasped at his back. I easily rotate my wrists, flexing them and sliding them easily from the strappings; clearly, they were not intending on holding a skeleton prisoner.

"You see, what we--" He cuts off abruptly as I dart one hand out, expertly collaring him and dragging him closer to me.

"I shall not be a prisoner for your amusement," I hiss. He raises a hand, which I catch and twist around until something snaps. His face blanches. I let my voice slide down an octive, smooth and dangerous. _"It is fine... Everything is fine. Stand quietly." _ His face turns raptured, his eyes wide. I wriggle my legs, inelegantly rolling from the table once they're freed. The Punjab lays coiled on a smaller table with wheels, and I pause to consider the brightness and amount of metal used in this room.

The door flies open, breaking the trance I've created. The girl is standing in the doorway with several men dressed in black and bizarre helmets behind her. Her hair is pulled back severely from her face, her feet are bare. Her eyes are bright, too bright. She turns them on me.

"Erik, what are you doing?" she asks softly. "Bringing you was a lot of work; you should be grateful."

"Release the Doctor," one of the men says tersely, his voice sounding odd through the helmet. I drop my hands. The Doctor, for his part, rubs his wrist a few times, and has the good sense to look chagrined.

"Oh, dear. It would seem that things are not getting off to a good start." He glances between me and the girl.

"He's feeling threatened," she murmurs. She tilts her head. I do not care for the way she studies me.

"Ah, very true. Why don't you take our new friend on a tour?" he suggest. He waves us off jovially.

She lowers her head, submissive then turns and walks through the group of men. I follow.

**********************

I can feel his eyes burning on me as I walk. The hallways are quiet, and our bare feet make little noises that echo. We round a corner, and the air shifts. My eyes grow dark, and there are long fingers curled around my neck. I focus, but it's hard.

Images flash before my eyes, and then I can feel his quick mind. It's hard to seperate his thought streams, there are so many. It's chaos and I'm nearly lost before I find one that makes him pause. It's brief, just a little snippet really--a girl with an open face and blue eyes is standing next to... Something I don't understand. She presses a piece of it and a clear sound issues.

The dark pulls away from my sight... I pull in a deep breath as his fingers release, dropping me back to the floor. He's staring hard at me, his unsettling eyes narrowed. He's twitching, agitated. One of the Keepers lazily ambles over. I flick my eyes to him, stupidly. Erik hits the man once in his neck, which only draws more of them as the first Keeper sinks to the floor.

They pile on him, and I see a bright syringe in the mix. I back away, pressing my back to the wall. All of the black amidst this unending white is hurting my eyes. I close them, waiting for the scuffling to disippate. At last it's quiet again.

Erik is slowly sitting up, his pupils dialated a little. "What did you give me?" he asks slowly. I sit on the floor next to him.

"Lithium mostly, and a few other things thrown in for good measure. That's what they usually give to people that are having a hard time adjusting." I stand then, and offer him my hand. It looks ridiculous when he places his hand in mine, his expression slightly dazed--his fingers wrap nearly twice around my hand. I help to pull him to his feet; he's surpisingly steady. I tilt my head back to look up at him, taking in his height, his black mask.

"No... What did _you_ do to me?"


	3. Good Morning

Ch.3 Good Morning

Her eyes are wary. She reaches up slowly and pulls her eyewear down to cover those painfully bright eyes. It gives her a comical look, and I have to work not to giggle. I swear that I can feel the drugs working through my veins; I'm floating.

"They've put me in charge of orienting you," she explains. "C'mon--you're going to need a bed."

She starts to walk away and I'm still standing in the same spot, very aware that I'm being observed from all sides. I watch, stupidly, as she sighs, grabs my wrist and begins pulling me along like one would a naughty child. I do not care for this feeling, like my legs have taken a journey across the ocean and forgotten the rest of me. The hall passes in a blur, completely silent.

"Be glad you arrived in the middle of the night; this place gets a little...busy during the day." She stops before a door, heavy and thick. She nods at the man standing guard, who quickly presses a series of lights; the door slides open. I'm pushed gently into the small room, the brilliant white walls burning my eyes. There's a small bed, which I fall into.

Sleep comes easy.

{break}

The door slides open. I'm instantly on my feet, my body tense. The girl is standing there again, a tray in her hands. Her black hair is knotted tightly to her head. Her skin is nearly as white as the walls, so white that it's hard to tell where her clothing begins and ends. Her arms are bare, and I have to work not to stare, nor to stare at her small, bare feet.

"What is this?" I demand.

"Breakfast," she snaps. I lift one brow. She mirrors my expression, one of her dark eyebrows lifting comically over her spectacles. She uncermoniously plops the tray down on the small table that's bolted to the wall. Curious, I poke about, trying to discern what it is. I select the orange and begin peeling it with my fingers.

"Bloody uncivilized," I mutter as the juice runs down my hands. She makes a small sound.

"You'd better eat more than that."

"Oh? And pray tell, why is that?"

"If you don't eat, they'll put vitamins and protein powder in your water. They'll hold you down and force you; you're not the first to go on a hunger strike, you know," she says matter-of-factly.

"I assure you, madame, that my appetite has naught to do with personal or political motivation."

She turns back to the door, hesitates. "That...weapon they removed from you--what was it?"

"The Punjab."

She pauses to consider, then motions me forward with her hand. "It's time for you to see what this place is about."

***************

All damn night. All through the fucking night, I could hear him. When he wasn't muttering in that velvet voice, he was singing at the top of his lungs. It didn't make sense, none of it--he sang and spoke in languages I didn't understand. It was worse when he slept.

The images were harsh and filled me with the strangest pain. I rolled and tossed and turned, ready to pull my eyes from my head when yet again, that beautiful blonde went dancing through his mind. I wanted to kiss her little upturned nose. I wanted to kill her.

So, no, I was not pleased when morning was announced. I was not pleased when I was summoned to the Doctor's office. I wanted very badly to go back to bed, but I was ordered to take the monster his breakfast and to finish his orientation that he'd interrupted with his magnificent violence. No doubt he wanted to explore the link between the Erik and I.

He's following me, a half step behind and to my right. I gesture to the other doors. "There are dozens of us here, each with our own room. Most are not allowed to simply wander the halls, only being summoned when needed. I'm fairly certain that there are other buildings, with more people, but I don't know for sure."

"Us?"

"What?" I stop, trying hard not to stare at his mask.

"You said, 'us'. I assume that we are all here for a common purpose.. We must all have a common thread."

"The Doctor will explain it." I press the button for the lift. The doors slide open, which Erik watches with great interest. He reaches one thin arm up, running his fingers over the tracks that they slid upon. I tap my foot.

"Explain to me how this works."

"What?"

"These doors. I can see _how_ they slide, and where they are now, but by what mechanism are they moved? Where is the spring?"

"There's no spring. They just open."

He's clearly displeased with my answer, and even more displeased when the doors begin to shut on him. Once he's finally on board, I press another button that lights up. He watches with great interest. The sensation of moving downward has his eyes popping wide behind his mask. I giggle at his expression.

The doors slide open again, and I'm relieved that I don't have to drag him off. He's walking next to me now, and I'm suddenly very aware of the difference in our stature. He towers over me, my head coming a good six inches below his shoulder. I bite my lip.

"Ah, Erik! How good to see you!" The Doctor's jovial voice echoes into the hallway. He motions him inside. Erik balks, his wiry body coiling like a spring. "Come now boy, I'm not going to hurt you. No, I'm going to _help_ you."

Intrigued, Erik slips into the doorway. The door slides shut, cutting him from view. One of the Keepers taps me on the shoulder, and escorts me away. Without knowing why, I twist once in his grasp, looking over my shoulder.

I can still feel him.


	4. Education

**AN: If rape/abuse isn't your thing, you may go now. You've been warned, even though this is probably going to be more...mild than some later chapters. Things get graphic, and it starts making sense soon, I promise.**

**Reviews are always appreciated.**

I am compelled to sit in a chair facing a blank wall. The lights are beginning to hurt my sensitive eyes. All at once, I'm fighting the panic rising in me as attendants appear from nowhere and fasten my arms securely at my sides. I have to feel a bit of pride, though--the white-haired buffoon seemed to have learned his lesson during our last tangle.

He stands in front of me and slightly to the side. "The world has changed so much, Erik. It's a very different place from the one you know..." He trails off, his eyes wandering as he appears to contemplate things. "Or perhaps it isn't. _Order _ is the key to everything, yes? You are a musician--you must surely understand the importance of keeping things within the rules, otherwise you are just left with noise." I do not respond. I'm not feeling much in the mood for philosophy today.

His face wrinkles a little behind his bushy mustache (Why is he so untidy with his person?), and I can tell he is displeased with my silence. "Well. Would you like to see what you have missed?"

Before I can answer, the light is abruptly cut off. Then the wall is alive with images, flashing faster than I can process them. Some far off part of my mind muses that it must be similar to a sort of gas and light show, most likely. The colors and flashes start to take shape... People, places, buildings, fire...

Another needle is sliding into my vein, but I hardly notice.

The world _did_ change... Just not in the sense that the Doctor would have me believe. Someone was always struggling for superiority, that much remained constant. The technology, society... The easy death, the clinging to life! It was too much, absurd!

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, nodding his head gravely. Did I speak? "That is where we come in." The images are hurting my head.

All is quiet as the pictures shift, slowing down, showing symbols, men in white coats and determined faces. A girl with long, raven hair twirls slowly, and a building rises up out of a grassy field. I understand suddenly.

The lights are blinding when they are brought back up. I squint, wanting very hard to curse but not able to find my voice. The Doctor moves to stand in my line of site again, that insipid smile plastered on his face again. I want to hate him, but he's so still, so calm...

"You are a skilled assassin, dear Erik. I thought that accounts of your...abilities had been exagerated for the sake of entertainment--imagine my great delight to learn that they are true!"

"Entertainment?" I grated. I paused as several images swam up in my mind. My mouth squirked on one side. Humanity was still cruel, apparently.

"Yes, well, that is not why you've been brought here. What a challenge to find you were! Our little A-45 had much trouble locating you."

"The girl? She is the one who found me?"

"Yes, she's quite extraordinary at finding...special people like yourself, among other things."

"Why does she not have a name?"

He waved his hand again, dismissing the question. "We would like to extrapolate on your already formidable gifts, if we may. We need to know how much you're capable of."

And really, what choice did I really have? My head still pounded with the sensory overload, I was strapped, trapped, and an utter prisoner. Could I deny them the desire to see how far I would go, could go? I have no qualms with killing; I'd enjoyed it far too much for that to be the case.

I nod.

*********************************

My head is throbbing, and my body aches.

I wonder how old I am.

I try to bury my face deeper into my little bed, my arms folded around me. If I could just sleep for a couple hours, one even... Then I could handle the coming onslaught, and I sure knew it was coming. They were gonna keep shoving us together, time and again, because they were baffled by whatever it was that he does to me.

No such luck. My door slides open, and I know at once that it is the Captain from the way the atmosphere tightens around me.

"Get up."

"No, please, my head hurts--"

Before I can finish, he's grabbing my knot of hair and is yanking me to my feet with a yelp. My feet scramble for a minute, but they're bare again and I keep sliding on the smooth floor. He keeps walking, not seeming to notice that he's dragging me along with him. I can't help but think of his strength.

I shouldn't have said no. I know better.

We pause in the hallway, and he hefts me up, wrapping his hand firmly around the back of my neck. He's taller than me, but not as tall as Erik. Why on Earth does that matter? He shoves me against the wall, his body covering mine. It twists my neck painfully as I try to keep from smashing my face against the whiteness. He quickly yanks my simple clothing off, leaving my goggles.

He's towing me again, his fingers digging hard into my neck. He shoves me abruptly into the showers, twisting the water on without a care for how cold it is. I make another small noise and try to scramble out from under the spray, but he quickly backhands me, his knuckles landing easily on my cheek. It could've been worse. I can remember, fuzzily, one time he balled up his fist and hit me... I think. Was it him? Does it matter?

The water warms marginally. As soon as it does, it's shut off, and the Captain is brisquely drying me, like he doesn't want to touch me more than necessary. I shiver, my skin prickling. I fold my arms over my chest, trying hard to not freeze to death. He notices, and yanks my arms free. He spins me again, shoving me against the wet tile, and I'm grateful he didn't break my goggles again. Probably learned his own lesson from the Doctor about doing that.

As he shoves his body up against me, I wonder how he got chosen for this job, or did he apply? Why was he selected? He's yanking his cock free, and pushing hard against me. He lets it slide over my wet skin, grunting. I hold still, waiting, hoping... But no, he's pushing it into me, hard and awkward against the wall. He thrusts hard, hitting my head against the wall.

I stay silent until I feel him pull out and reposition himself.

"Please don't... " I whisper. I hate that. He grabs a couple of loose hairs from the base of my neck and pulls hard.

"You're misbehaving today. I _don't_ like that." He shoves rudely into my body again, only it's all wrong. It hurts like I'm being torn apart. He's pounding and grunting now, and I'm biting my lip hard. It starts to bleed in my mouth. His cock starts to twitch, and there's warmth running down the back of my legs.

Back under the water, and he's looking at me like I disgust him. Maybe I do.

I let my mind wander, briefly letting it reach beyond myself... And there, I can feel his quick mind again. He's excited, and it makes me blink. I wonder what Erik is doing...


	5. AnxietyExperiment

**AN: This chapter's fairly safe, just a smidge of violence. Mostly just filler going on here. Reviews are love.**

Something's up today. I'm jumpy and nervous, and I keep twisting my hand into the hem of my shirt. The air feels like it's heavier. They see my twitching, and they put me to running on the treadmill, and it's nice to sweat and work. I push harder, my feet and heart pounding in rythm.

My mind wanders while I'm running. They're monitoring it all, of course, so I can't really get away with a lot, but I like to know my limits. I push outward, tentatively checking my borders. I can feel the others out there, in their cells, in the halls, working... I dart a quick glance at the window where I'm being watched--both of the orderlies are busy chatting, looking bored. I take a deep breath, and focus harder, trying to push through the walls, all of them, but I'm suddenly dragged down, down, down...

I'm sucked hard into Erik, and I can feel his surprise. His train of thought doesn't falter, but my feet do. The sensation of falling so hard into his chaotic mind has me tripping and being thrown off the treadmill. I start trying to untangle myself, both mentally and physically, and soft hands are trying to pick me up. I'm grateful immediately that no one heard my racket and decided to come investigate, maybe to read the printouts with the lines on them that are my brain... I yank the electrodes off my head and body, hurriedly.

[break]

I'm poking at my food, sitting sullenly on my bed when the Doctor comes in. He sits next to me, and puts his hand on my knee.

"You've been pushing it again, haven't you?" he asks quietly. I nod, drawing my knees up to my chest. "Why, A-45?"

"Because... It's hard for me to be here right now. Erik is _inside_ me, and I can feel... I can feel _the other one_ pulling at me too." I bite my lip. "What is so different about him? The others you asked me to find weren't like this, not at all." _All except one_, I add silently.

He sighs. "I think that his brainwave signature is very similar to yours. Or it could be that it's the complete opposite, and you complement each other....maybe his aural scent is more potent than others. He was quite startled today, though he did a heroic job of hiding it. I was surprised, too--I didn't think you could reach him all the way down there."

"I... I'm sorry," I whisper. "It's hurts my head when he's close, and it hurts when he's far away."

"Maybe you shouldn't block him so hard, exert your wee little head like that."

I can feel my eyes pop wide. "But what if... What if he owns me? What if he's like _him?_"

The Doctor shrugs. "Then maybe you must pick which one you would rather belong to."

**********************

I flex my vocal chords again, adjusting the tempo and timbre slightly. I tilt my head, never breaking the sound, analyzing. The man is on the floor, twitching, his eyes blank and his body lax. Not quite the desired effect.

I spin on my heel, and yank open the heavy door. The Doctor tilts his own head, asking a silent question. I stalk over to the table strewn with papers. "Here," I announce, stabbing an equation with my thin finger, "this must be altered. Replace it with chlorate, and reduce the amount of phospherous--I don't want to kill him outright... Oh, now you're just muddling the fractions..."

The assistant looks frightened as I snatch the pencil from his hand and start to scribble furiously. He slinks off, trying hard to look busy as he tinkers with a basket of syringes. I think the Doctor is smiling. I slam the pencil down, breaking it in half, and allow them a few moments to mix everything.

The girl hasn't been rifling through my mind today.

They're ready. Another needle, a slightly different dosage. I'm on my feet, bursting with energy as I all but dance back into the padded room. I open my mouth again, and the man is screaming on the floor.

Much better.

I lower my voice an octave and keep letting it fall, scraping the bottom of my register. The man, his sweaty hair clinging to his forehead, rolls onto his side, his body convulsing. His hips thrust and his eyes are open wide. I adjust the melody a little, and he's grabbing between his legs...

And then there's the sickening sound of flesh tearing as he pulls his rigid cock from his body.

Well. I was not expecting _that_.

I tossed a glance over my shoulder at the window. The Doctor smiled, then shrugged with one shoulder. When I exit the room, he's chuckling quietly. "Well, it would seem you were right, Erik."

"Yes, I am. I believe that I've won our gentleman's wager."

"So you have, so you have. What should you like?"

I try to look like I'm considering as we walk slowly down the hall to the lift. "The girl," I say quietly. "A-45," I clarify at seeing his lifted brows. "I wish to speak with her for an hour."

"Ah," he says, nodding. "Very well. We shall satisfty your...curiosity." He gives me a sideways leer. I ignore him.

Still, my body grows warm.


	6. Memory

**AN: Sorry for the delay in updates--it's hard for me to write unless I'm hurting. Not sure what that says about me, but there you go. This chapter is pretty safe until the very end, so feel free to skip the last paragraph if that's not your thang. Reviews are awesome, especially ones that don't consist of just "PLZ 2 HAVE MOAR UPDATES???" :D**

She's startled when the door opens and I walk in. Her eyes are still covered, but I suspect that they are popped wide. I sit in a chair that is bolted to the floor and watch as she scrambles across her small bed, her back against the wall and knees drawn up to her chest. She reminds me of a cat being backed into a corner, and I want to smile.

"Why are they keeping you here?" Her eyebrows furrow in answer. "What is it that you do, exactly?"

"I...find people."

"Yes, I've seen _that_--no, that other business."

"Oh." _Oh_ indeed.

She lets her legs dangle off the edge of the bed, and for the first time, I'm struck by how small she is--they must keep her very near starving. "I'm not sure exactly how it works, to be honest. I can see things, see things _inside_ people, but not their, um, organs and things; I see how they think and why, what makes them who they are."

I narrow my eyes at her, and to my surprise, she leans forward. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"No, I do not."

"Well, I wouldn't believe that you could kill a man with your voice, either, unless I had seen it."

"You saw that? How?"

She waves a tiny hand, dismissing the question. "You are treated differently than the rest of us, you know. Perhaps it is because you are a man of science as well? Or is it because of your nature?"

"Well then, as you have pronounced me a man of science, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that I cannot believe such a claim without proof," I announce.

"You...you want me to _show_ you?" she says, a little breathless. Why I find this appealing, I can't say. I nod.

She leans further forward...and then she's pulling her goggles off, her eyes shockingly bright. All at once, I'm falling into her again, and it feels as if my head is a stack of papers that is being rifled through. She pauses at certain feelings, memories, examining them, until she at last finds what she wants, and then there is stabbing, blinding pain behind my eyes as I relive it again, a thousand fold.

It's a labor to continue breathing as she continues barreling through my scars... But there is a new sensation, something else... I can feel her concentrating, feel her...watching right along with me. I start resisting in earnest then, but she simply slices right through my determination and embarrassment.

The smell of grass invades my mind's eye, and she's curious, exploring every facet of this particular memory, and again at the taste of wine, or the sound of my violin. Ah, my violin... She starts a little, and almost laughs at the feeling of...friendship? Longing? Nostalgia? It fills me up with pleasant feelings as well. So. of course it is a shock when she plunges right back into that secret hurt, the one that she did not reveal she had discovered. I gasp with the force of it, and she pulls back immediately, but not before I glimpse _her_ shame.

When my eyes stop burning enough that I can open them, I see that she is using the bottom of her shirt to blot her eyes, but they are not filled with tears; blood pools and spills over the rims, obscuring the icy blue. I'm alarmed and try to stand, to offer assistance, but she shakes her head a tiny bit.

"It's just a side effect of the drugs. We all have them--there are some that cannot eat anymore, or hear buzzing, and even one that is withering away to nothing for no reason at all. You'll get them too," she continues, her cheeks streaked with bloody tears she missed. She stares at me, and I can't look away. "Yes. It hurts."

******************

As soon as I am able, I replace my goggles to spare my eyes the hurt of the overhead lights. Erik's hour is nearly up, and he seems to be searching for the question that he most wants to ask.

"What is your name?" he ventures finally.

"A-45," I answer automatically. I think he's frowning behind his mask.

"No, your _real_ name."

I hesitate, trying to think of a way to answer without angering him. "I don't... I can't..."

"Do you remember nothing before you came here?"

My mouth opens as if I'm going to answer, but nothing comes out. I breathe deep and try again--and the door slams open, and Erik is being ushered out before I can come up with anything.

Later, when the lights are out, I lay on my back and I try to think. I think of the strange sensations, the way the grass felt beneath Erik's feet, the smell of a horse, and even though I experienced the memories second-hand, they're still potent and full of wonder.

I think long and hard, and I try to remember. My brain works feverishly as I toss onto my side, trying to sleep. It gallops around in circles even as the Commandent pulls at my legs and hammers inelegantly into me. He notices that I am preoccupied, so he bends my body until it hurts and waits for me to cry out. When I finally do, the veins in his forehead stand out and he covers my legs with his sticky seed.

I want very much to offer a snide comment about the small quantity, but resist in lieu of the peace that his leaving offers.


End file.
